I’m going to tell you what’s wrong with me but, first, let’s talk about music because it eventually (sorta) connects. Right now, there’s a song on my iPhone I’ve been listening to on repeat. There is a bit of a formula to what my husband refers to as Carrie Songs (just as there’s a formula for Carrie Dresses and Carrie Meals — we like what we like!). A Carrie Song needs a guitar and a singer-songwriter (extra points for male and female singer-songwriters who sing together); it’s generally in the genre of “alternative folk” and it should gradually build and promptly finish in under 3:30. There’s a little more to it but those are the basics. Once Had by Keston Cobblers Cub totally fits it. The hook is this repeated line, “…and awkward silences they go on and on and on and on and on and on and on…” (If you’d like to preview the song, here it is on iTunes – it’s track 8.) It’s that line that has a business lesson.

But first I have to tell you a short love story.

If you dated me in 2008, you know that my Lavalife profile promised “awkward silences.” A lot of nice men responded to that profile and I had coffee or dinner with them, and they didn’t mind my awkward silences at all. In fact, they were sometimes awkwardly silent themselves, which didn’t bother either of us because we had an understanding before we even sat down at the table. It was lovely. And one of those men ended up marrying me.

When you name an awkward thing, it loses its awkwardness and I think it even becomes charming.

I hear that song, and those words remind me of the woman who typed that profile with a f*** it attitude. Here’s me. Like me, don’t like me. It’s all fine. But I don’t want you to be disappointed. I don’t want you to feel sold to.

And with that, the signature of my spirit was somehow transmitted through those keystrokes and pixels and I didn’t come across as flawed so much as different, individual, maybe even interesting. What’s “wrong” with me is that I’m terrible at small talk (I detest it) and will panic if I can’t think of something to say next and will be so busy dying inside that the only words that come to mind will be SAYSOMETHINGSAYSOMETHING, which isn’t helpful. I was open about it. “If you have coffee with me, here’s what it will be like…. and I will drink tea.” And that small experiment in proclaiming my shortcomings has led to great things, not least of which is a very fine husband.

So what’s the business lesson in announcing one’s awkward silences (and whatever your version of them is)?

Our businesses are all just containers for relationships. Being honest and vulnerable creates space for genuine connection (a key principle of Kind Business), and it gives the recipient permission to be honest and vulnerable. It’s liberating for everyone.

But here’s the other thing, as it relates to marketing, specifically… I know that a lot of sensitive people hold back from launching things and from writing offer pages because they don’t want to disappoint. Honesty and vulnerability are the cure for that! You can say “I’m really good at x, y, z but I’m not able to give you a, b, c…” “I can help you cope with [blank] but I won’t heal you.” “I need time to consider things, so I never do meetings by phone, only email.” “I sometimes get so inspired in consultation calls that I rush from one idea to the next and it can be hard to follow, so I will always provide a transcript to you within 48 hours, and you may followup with questions by email.”

Don’t not offer the thing you want to offer. Don’t try to change yourself first. (Don’t not date.)

Just tell people what it will be like with you. You will feel safer that way. And I think you’ll be delighted. Turns out, some people really dig the awkward girls.